Maybe I’m just cynical after being back in the suburbs for a year. The world is calling and I’ll probably answer it soon.
I inhaled the sweaty air of the dance floor and couldn’t help but smile…
You can no more nail down Jesus (heh) than you can a tornado.
Let my pain reveal your glory as my only real rest.
Where are the men who are healthily in touch with their emotions, and why is this so rare for us to encounter?
And then one day it all goes black. All the stories you’ve held in your chest are released to fly into the night. It’s like waking up from a long sleep, but instead of morning grog, you are met with stunning clarity.
You won’t be around much longer….another 50 or 60 years MAX before you’re worm food…
I ache to return to those days, but I can’t. Time only moves in one direction and I’m caught in her cruel current.
The bedroom shrine and the bathroom liturgy…
According to legend, when an Ancient Greek died, his friends and relatives did not examine his possessions or his wealth. They did not judge his life based on his merits, his achievements, or his social status. They asked only one question…